The murder is to the murderer, and comes back most to him, The theft is to the thief, and comes back most to him, The love is to the lover, and comes back most to him, The gift is to the giver, and comes back most to him, it cannot fail, The oration is to the orator, and the acting is to the actor and actress, not to the audience, And no man understands any greatness or goodness but his own, or the indication of his own. 23. I swear the earth shall surely be complete to him or her who shall be complete! I swear the earth remains broken and jagged only to him or her who remains broken and jagged! 24. I swear there is no greatness or power that does not emulate those of the earth! I swear there can be no theory of any account, Unless it face the exactness, vitality, impartiality, 25. I swear I begin to see love with sweeter spasms than that which responds love! It is that which contains itself, which never invites and never refuses. 26. I swear I begin to see little or nothing in audible words! I swear I think all merges toward the presentation of the unspoken meanings of the earth! Toward him who sings the songs of the body, and of the truths of the earth, Toward him who makes the dictionaries of the words that print cannot touch. 27. I swear I see what is better than to tell the best, It is always to leave the best untold. 28. When I undertake to tell the best, I find I cannot, My tongue is ineffectual on its pivots, My breath will not be obedient to its organs, I become a dumb man. 29. The best of the earth cannot be told anyhow — all or any is best, It is not what you anticipated—it is cheaper, easier, nearer, Things are not dismissed from the places they held before, The earth is just as positive and direct as it was before, Facts, religions, improvements, politics, trades, are as real as before, But the Soul is also real,—it too is positive and No reasoning, no proof has established it, 30. This is a poem for the sayers of words - these are hints of meanings, These are they that echo the tones of Souls, and the phrases of Souls; If they did not echo the phrases of Souls, what were they then? If they had not reference to you in especial, what were they then? 31. I swear I will never henceforth have to do with the faith that tells the best! I will have to do with that faith only that leaves the best untold. 32. Say on, sayers! Delve! mould! pile the words of the earth! in use, When the materials are all prepared, the architects shall appear. 33. I swear to you the architects shall appear without fail! I announce them and lead them, I swear to you they will understand you and justify you, I swear to you the greatest among them shall be he who best knows you, and encloses all, and is faithful to all, I swear to you, he and the rest shall not forget you - they shall perceive that you are not an iota less than they, I swear to you, you shall be glorified in them. A BOSTON BALLAD, THE 78TH YEAR OF THESE STATES. 1. CLEAR the way there, Jonathan! Way for the President's marshal! Way for the gov ernment cannon! Way for the federal foot and dragoons—and the apparitions copiously tumbling. 2. I rose this morning early, to get betimes in Boston town, Here's a good place at the corner, I must stand and see the show. 3. I love to look on the stars and stripes, I hope the fifes will play Yankee Doodle. 4. How bright shine the cutlasses of the foremost troops! Every man holds his revolver, marching stiff through 5. A fog follows-antiques of the same come limping, Some appear wooden-legged, and some appear bandaged and bloodless. 6. Why this is a show! It has called the dead out of the earth! The old grave-yards of the hills have hurried to see! Uncountable phantoms gather by flank and rear of it! Cocked hats of mothy mould! crutches made of mist! Arms in slings! old men leaning on young men's shoulders! 7. What troubles you, Yankee phantoms? What is all this chattering of bare gums? Does the ague convulse your limbs? Do you mistake your crutches for fire-locks, and level them? 8. If you blind your eyes with tears, you will not see the President's marshal, If you groan such groans you might balk the govern ment cannon. 9. For shame, old maniacs! Bring down those tossed arms, and let your white hair be, Here gape your smart grand-sons their wives gaze at them from the windows, See how well-dressed-see how orderly they conduct themselves. 10. Worse and worse! retreating? Can't you stand it? Are you Is this hour with the living too dead for you? 11. Retreat then! Pell-mell! Back to your graves! Back to the hills, old limpers! I do not think you belong here, anyhow. 12. But there is one thing that belongs here shall I tell you what it is, gentlemen of Boston? 13. I will whisper it to the Mayor- he shall send a committee to England, haste! They shall get a grant from the Parliament, go with Up with your anchor! shake out your sails! steer 14. Now call for the President's marshal again, bring out the government cannon, |